The door was opened for Barney by a red-eyed Katie who said, ‘Mam’s in the sitting room, Mr McGuire. Have…have you heard anything?’
‘No, hinny. No.’ He took off his cap and walked on tiptoe across the hall and into the sitting room.
Fiona was standing in front of the fireplace. It was already quite warm outside but she had the electric fire on. She said, ‘Hello, Barney.’
‘Hello, Mrs B. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. We’re all stunned. The fellas all wanted to come and see what they could do, but, as I said, the job had to go on. That’s what he would want. We had to keep at it until he came back. Oh…’ He stopped, lost for words.
‘Why should it happen to him, Barney?’
Her voice was breaking. ‘Who would want to do this? And he must have put up a fight, there must have been more than one. I…I thought last night in my distress that it might have been Mr Paget next door because he’s been funny lately and going on about Nell marrying Bert, because he didn’t want her to leave them. And he had said quite threatening things to me, what he would do to Bill. But when I thought about it, Bill would have knocked him down with one hand. The only thing is, if he had an implement. But then he would have had to lift or pull Bill into his car and take him…somewhere. Oh, I can’t help it.’ She turned now and faced the fire. ‘I can’t help it, Barney. I keep thinking aloud all the time, talking, talking. I think I’m going to go mad.’
He was standing at her side now, his hand on her shoulder. ‘Look, as the lads said back there, he’s a tough guy, the toughest, they don’t come tougher than him. He’s not going to be knocked out with one blow. It’s likely somebody’s done this for money, kidnapping you know because they’ve heard he’s got the big job. And you’ll see, you’ll get a phone call shortly. But as we all said, if that was the case we’d skin our hides to help you meet it, we would that, because there’ll never be another boss like him. And they all know it. Who I ask you, would make it into a sort of partnership as he did last year on that other job and give us a percentage of the profits at Christmas? Not many, not many I can tell you.’ His voice was rising as if he were addressing a meeting. Then he turned as the door opened and Mark came in.
‘Hello there, son.’
‘Hello, Mr Barney. Have…have you heard anything?’
‘No, lad; we’ve only just got to hear of it back on the houses. We couldn’t believe it.’
‘Sit down, Mam.’ The boy came and took Fiona’s arm and, as if she were an old lady, led her to the couch. Then looking at Barney, he said, ‘Sit down, Mr Barney.’
‘No, lad, I won’t stay. He’d want the job to go on, as I said to your mam. And I’ll see it goes on. Aye, by God I will, because he’ll be back. You’ll see, he’ll be back. And you know what I just said a minute ago, Mrs B, about blackmail, you know, of being kidnapped; well, as the lads were sayin’, if that’s the case it’s been done by those blokes who mugged me and took Jack Mowbray’s bike and levelled Jos Wright’s allotment, not to mention Morris Fenwick’s pigeons. Then there was Alec Finlay’s outhouse and all his tools, and the whole thing started with Tommy Turnbull’s car being pinched. D’you remember? Now they’ve been through us all, and it seems to be the same two fellas, they’ve turned to the boss, and it’ll be money they’re after this time, blackmail, as the lads said. By God! If we could only get our hands on them they wouldn’t live, I can tell you, not to go to court. But…but as Davey Love, the new Irish fella, said, “Blokes don’t do things like that off their own bat except they’re gettin’ paid, ’cos there’d be no money in it, would there, for levelling an allotment and letting out pigeons?” No, there’s some big bloke behind it. But that fella Love’s got his head screwed on the right way, and he seems to think everything stems from the fellas who took the car. He remembers what those blokes looked like, Mutt and Jeff, he said, one big and one small, well, not over-small, but contrast like, you know.’
She wished he would stop talking. She wished he would go away.
There was a bit of commotion in the hall, and she rose from the couch and put her hand out towards Mark’s and gripped it tightly. But she didn’t move from where she was standing: she kept her eyes on the door expecting it to open and Bill to walk or stumble in. But it was Katie, who said, ‘It’s Sir Kingdom, Mam.’
She drew in a long breath, then said, ‘Oh, show him in. Bring him in.’ Then turning to Barney, she said, ‘Thank you, Barney. If…if you hear anything at all you’ll let me know, won’t you? And if we have any news we’ll phone you.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. Yes, thank you.’ He edged his way to the door but had to step back when Sir Charles, followed by his secretary, came into the room, the old man saying, ‘They didn’t tell me a word of this, Mrs Bailey, not a word did I hear until after breakfast. A lot of nincompoops. My dear. My dear. What can I say?’
He turned and looked at Barney who was aiming to get out of the door and said, ‘You…you one of the workmen?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m the boss’ gaffer.’
‘Oh, well, he’d want you to keep on working, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes, sir. Yes, he would that. Good day to you, sir.’
‘Oh my dear.’ He was moving towards Fiona now, his hands outstretched. ‘What can I say? I feel responsible. Oh I do, I feel responsible.’
‘Please sit down, Sir Charles.’
‘Thank you. Thank you.’
The old man dropped into a chair; then looking up at his secretary, he said, ‘I’ll never forgive you for keeping this from me; nor my wife either, because…because I feel responsible for it all. I should have done something before now. Yes, I should. I should.’
‘What could you have done, Sir Charles, that could have prevented this?’
‘Oh, my dear’—the old man put his hand to his head—‘I should have gone to the police and told them what I thought she was up to. What did I do? I said to Bailey I would make good all the damages to his men. But as he pointed out to me, oh yes, and truthfully, you couldn’t pay for a life.’
‘What are you saying, Sir Charles?’ Fiona’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape; then she went on, ‘You know…you know who has done this? You know where my husband is?’
‘No, my dear; the latter I don’t know, I don’t know where your husband is. I’d give all I own at this moment to be able to say to you, yes, I know where he is. But her thugs must have got at him.’
‘Her?’ She could not believe what her mind was thinking. Her, he had said. Her voice was small when she said, ‘Your niece, you mean?’
‘No, she’s not my niece, dear, she’s my godchild. Strangely, I’ve thought of her as a daughter and put up with her whims and antics for years; in fact I’ve condoned them, but not this, not this. I warned her, but she went abroad and I couldn’t locate her. I tried again this morning only to be told that she’s gone off again. Rupert here’—he wagged his finger towards his secretary—‘got in touch with her accountant, and what he was told, well, I could hardly believe. Over the past months she has sold most of her businesses and now plans to live abroad. Where, nobody seems to be able to tell me. But you can’t escape in this world for very long, and if anything happens to Bailey…’
Fiona turned from him, her hand shading her eyes, saying as she did so, ‘Please! Please, sir, don’t even suggest such a thing. I…I can’t bear it. Anyway, you should know her and I’m sure you don’t think she would be capable of…of anything like—’ she couldn’t say ‘murder’, but instead said, ‘anything awful just because my husband refused her advances and told her plainly he wouldn’t leave me for her. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Hurt pride, someone dared to refuse her something. But…but even so, she would surely stop at ordering someone to really hurt him, murder him, wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t she?’ Her voice had risen almost to a scream, and both Katie and Mark rushed to her side and put their arms about her.
The next moment, however, she became full of contrition as she s
aw the old man bow his head and the secretary put his arm on his shoulder, saying, ‘Can I get you something, sir?’ And he turned to Fiona, saying, ‘May I ask if you have any spirits, a little brandy?’
‘Oh yes, yes.’
‘I’ll get it, Mam.’
Mark hurried to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room, and when he returned with the glass half filled with brandy the secretary smiled wanly at him, saying, ‘That looks like a treble, but thank you.’ Then taking the glass from the boy, he turned to Sir Charles, saying, ‘Drink this, sir,’ and the old man, with a shaking hand, took the glass, looked at it for a moment before drinking half its contents, then sat back in the chair, his head resting on the rail. Presently, looking at Fiona, he said, ‘Nothing you could say to me, my dear, could come within miles of the condemnation I’m pouring on my own head at this moment.’
‘I’m sorry, Sir Charles, but I’m so upset. He was, I mean he is,’ and she stressed the last word, ‘such a good man. He loves my children as if they were his own. He may be rough of tongue but he would not do an underhand or dishonourable thing.’
‘I’m sure of that, my dear. Yes, I know that. I had great respect for him.’
‘Sir, may I speak?’
‘Can you tell me who has ever been able to stop you if you wanted to, man?’
‘Well, you seem to have come to the conclusion that this happening is solely at Mrs Brown’s door. But last night I seemed to think it could have been done by the neighbour next door. Isn’t that so, Mrs Bailey?’ After a moment’s hesitation, Fiona said, ‘Yes. Yes, that’s right. I understand Mr Paget is schizophrenic or something similar.’
‘And you know, sir, such people can have dual personalities; they can do the most outrageous things when their character changes. They can have uncommon strength and be wily with it. So I don’t think, sir, you should take it for granted that Mrs Brown is solely behind this. Then again, as has been hinted, it could have been the work of a disappointed contender for the estate project.’ A little of the strain seemed to go from the old man’s face, and he looked from his secretary to Fiona, saying, ‘Yes, he could be right. He could be right. I only hope that he is. But whatever, the main thing now is to find out what has happened to your husband.’
‘But we can’t find out that, sir, can we, until we know who did it?’
Their attention was all on Mark now, and the secretary said, ‘Yes, you’re right, you’re right. But the police are hard at work looking into every possibility; they are not just following one lead. The inspector said to me on the phone this morning that this case is turning out like a piece of tapestry, there are so many threads to it.’
Sir Charles now drank the remainder of the brandy; then looking at his secretary he rose to his feet, saying, ‘You’ve eased my mind a little, Rupert. You have the habit of doing that. I suppose you get that from your mathematical mind.’ Then looking at Fiona again, he held out his hand to her, and when she took it he patted it and in a low voice he muttered, ‘We will keep in close touch. I…I will phone every hour.’
‘Thank you, Sir Charles.’
‘Oh, don’t thank me for anything, my dear, don’t thank me.’ His head still shaking, he went out, and his secretary, after exchanging a glance with Fiona, turned and followed the old man…
The next visitor was Mr Paget’s doctor. He stood in the hall, saying, ‘I’ve had a long talk with him. Quite candidly he doesn’t really remember what he did last night when he went out in the car. This often happens in cases like this. I’ve attended him for years and he hasn’t had a bad turn, well, not for some long time. But they were pretty frequent at one time. He seems to have been better since his daughter-in-law came to live with them. Really he’s been a changed individual. It’s been only since she talked of leaving them to get married again that he’s reverted. Even so, the once or twice I’ve looked in on him recently he hasn’t seemed too bad. Of course, in cases like these they can become very sly and appear quite normal when talking to a professional man. But I can say he is greatly distressed this morning. He says he saw your husband’s car there as he drove into his drive, which surely points to the fact that, whatever happened, happened before he arrived home, because your husband, naturally, would drive straight into his garage, wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes, yes, he would.’
‘But then, of course, he could have said he saw the car there. I don’t know, I really don’t know, except that if the police get at him and wear him down he might own up to things that he’s never done out of sheer fear, and so confuse the issue. This also happens. Anyway, I’m glad they’re leaving him where he is for the time being. And his poor little wife is so upset. Now she is, physically, not well at all. I know how worried you must be about your husband, Mrs Bailey, but I do hope that whatever has happened to him isn’t laid at Mr Paget’s door, because all his life he’s been a frightened man. He knows what’s wrong with him and he’s afraid of it. But when he has these turns he takes on an aggressive attitude as if to make up for the fear and timidity that has filled the best part of his life. We never know what the other fellow is thinking, do we, Mrs Bailey? Anyway, I’ll be looking in on him later in the day. I’ll tell you what transpires then.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
It was around twelve o’clock when the next visitor appeared after having had an altercation with the policeman at the gate. Mark opened the door to him and the visitor said, ‘Could I be seein’ yer ma, son? I’m Davey Love; you know, Sammy’s father.’
‘Yes, yes. Come in, please. Will you come into the sitting room? My mother’s upstairs; I’ll call her.’
A minute later Mark knocked on Fiona’s bedroom door, calling, ‘Mam.’
‘Yes? Come in, Mark.’
‘Sammy’s father’s downstairs.’
‘Mr Love?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh. Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.’
She had turned her face towards him, and he knew that she was crying and he went out and walked slowly down the stairs. He too wanted to cry, like he had wanted to in the night, but, as his mother had said, she had only him to rely on until Mr Bill came back. He felt more in touch with him when he thought of him as Mr Bill rather than as Dad. He was wonderful as a dad but he had been more wonderful still as Mr Bill. He had come into their lives like an explosion, a burst of fireworks. In those early days he had longed to get home just to hear his voice. It was different now he was their father. But it was a good difference. He supposed it was a difference without the fear that he might get up, pack up and leave as he had done once before, when he was a lodger. He entered the room to see Mr Love sitting on the sofa holding Willie’s hand and saying, ‘You take me word for it, yer dad’s comin’ back. We’ll scour the town and as far afield as it takes, but we’ll find him, and whole. An’ the next thing you know he’ll be bawlin’ his big head off at you like he does us at work. Oh, God in heaven, I’d love to hear that bawl this minute, indeed to God I would that. You know, boy’—he now looked up at Mark—‘I’ve just joined the troop, so to speak, but I’ve never worked with a more decent lot of men, and I’ve never before worked with men who had a good word for their boss. Not that they’re angels, they’re always on the grouse. Well I mean, if we didn’t grumble what would we have to talk about? Now I ask you. But when the chips are down that lot would stand on their heads for him…Oh, there you are, ma’am.’ And he rose to his feet as Fiona entered the room. ‘It’s me dinner hour. I thought I’d come round and have a word with you.’
‘Thank you, Mr Love. It’s very kind of you.’
‘Kind? Not at all. If it wasn’t that that big-mouth gaffer Barney says we’ve all got to stick at it, ’cos that’s what the boss would expect, I would’ve had the half day off, or the whole day, since I heard the news. I have me own ideas where I could put me fingers on two blokes, the two that’ve been playin’ havoc with the gang. But o’course there’s no proof that this could be tacked onto them. They were up t
o their eyes in piddlin’ things like stealin’ bikes, lettin’ pigeons out, an’ things like that, annoyin’ things. But I don’t know if they’d be up to kidnappin’. They’re sayin’ now there’s so many suspects fallin’ over themselves, the police don’t know which end of them’s up. There’s an old bloke next door gone off his head, they say. An’ then there’s those that were after the big job. An’ you know some blokes can’t take defeat. Up to every trick in the book. Oh aye, begod! I know some of them. Don’t I now. But anyway, I just want to tell you you’ve got all me attention and as soon as I finish on the job the night I’ll be lookin’ for those two blokes, and if it’s only one of ’em I find, I’ll kick his backside from here to hell before handin’ him over to the pollis. Ma’am, can I ask you somethin’, personal like?’
‘Yes, Mr Love, anything.’
‘It’s about me young ’un. He missed seein’ Willie yesterday, an’ this bein’ Thursday he’s bound for confession. But what in the name of God, he has to confess I won’t be knowin’, except his four-letter words, an’ they’ve dropped off of late. It’s surprisin’. I know what state you’re in but d’you think that the morrow he could come round and have a word with yer Willie there. It’s amazing, ’tis, how the lad’s taken to Willie. An’ you like him an’ all, Willie, don’t you?’
Willie’s face was unsmiling as he said, ‘Yes. Yes, I do like Sammy.’
‘There you are then. How will it be, missis? He won’t be in the way, he knows better. I’ve threatened to knock his brains out an’ slap his face with ’em if he doesn’t behave himself when he’s in yer house. But that boy’s as miserable as sin when he can’t see the young chap here.’ He jerked his head in Willie’s direction. ‘I’ve never known him to be like this, not in all his life. Such a change in him. He was always askin’ when his ma was comin’ back, an’ when I said, never I hope, I’d find him cryin’ in bed. So I had to tell him she’d come in the door one day: she’d pop in just like the bad penny she was. But lately, not a word about his ma an’ no cryin’ in bed. So, if you wouldn’t mind. I feel that I’m imposin’ upon you in yer trouble, but…’
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